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“Katsu!” Kirishima sang off key, hand grabbing the banister and swinging around to walk down the small hallway. Pretty bare, aside from that decorative vase and the few pictures Bakugou allowed them to have there. “Kah. At. Suuuu!” Kirishima yelped once again, passing by the living room and catching the sight of bleach blonde hair.
He backtracked, hand having latched onto the doorframe and brought himself back to stand in the doorway. It didn’t seem as if Bakugou had noticed him yet—but Kirishima knew that he did—as the boy’s posture was that of someone who had been deeply into their show—hunched forward, couch pillow on his lap as he stuffed chips into his mouth. Kirishima would never figure out how he managed to get it to look so neat—no crumbs in sight.
As Kirishima heard the familiar jingle of the McDonald’s commercial, he stepped further into the living room as Bakugou tried to make himself seem more natural, leaning back into the couch and muttering about how ‘fucking stupid these damn commercials were’ and how, if he could, he would blast everything in that damn TV studio from here to Kingdom Come. Bakugou eyed Kirishima, who’d come to stand in front of the TV, effectively blocking him from watching that damn Eos lip balm commercial for the fourth time in two hours, with a raised eyebrow. “What the fuck do you want?” The sentence held almost no malice and even if it did, Kirishima didn’t care. He knew Bakugou hardly meant it anymore.
“So…” Kirishima resists the urge to put his foot up on the table or sit on it because Bakugou hates that too, but damn if he doesn’t look hot when he’s angry or annoyed. And as much as he wants to act on that, he came down here for a reason. “Papa John’s is having a two fer one deal.” He doesn’t waste anytime beating around the bush.
“Fuck Papa John’s. We’re Dominos people here, you period stain.” Bakugou sneers out. Kirishima only rolls his eyes at Bakugou—commending him on bringing out an old one and thinking that it meant his hair was extra red today (thank you Color Volumizer Lady Hair brand shampoo), reaching for the remote and pausing the show as he hears the end of the last commercial. If Bakugou is angry about it, he doesn’t say anything, instead he glares, smoke fuming angrily out of his nostrils.
“Katsu, you know the nearest Dominos is in the next town.”
“So? I don’t want no damn Papa John’s fuckin’ pizza in my house. What the fuck do I look like eating that third-rate cardboard covered in shit!?” Bakugou crosses his arms, “You want some damn pizza you get some damn pizza from fuckin’ Dominos or from one of the less shitty parlors around here or you don’t get no damn pizza at all.”
Semi-expecting this response, Kirishima sighs, hands raised in mock-surrender. “Okay, okay so I’ll go to down to the Mighty Pizza Shack. What do you want on the pizza?” Kirishima liked to ask even though after knowing Bakugou for so long, the man was a simple guy when it came to pizza: he usually didn’t want any toppings aside from cheese—and not just regular cheese. He wanted a three cheese pizza all the time. Extra cheese. Kirishima assumed that was why he had an ass Uraraka was envious of.
“I don’t fuckin’ care. You better not just get a meat lover’s pizza either!” Bakugou warns him, making a grabbing motion at the remote. Kirishima holds it out, just slightly out of Bakugou’s reach, making the man grunt as he leaned forward again. “Stop fucking around, cock waffle!”
“Ah, you don’t have to be so mean, Katsu!” Kirishima whined playfully, dropping the remote into Bakugou’s hand and backing towards the door, headed towards their bedroom for his wallet.
On the way back down, Kirishima once again into the living room, seeing Bakugou wrapped up in his show once more. Kirishima would never know what Bakugou saw in those crime shows… especially when they were in Spanish. How they even got the Telemundo channels, he’ll never know. “Katsu,” The man only waved a hand—well, more like flipped him off weakly. “Wanna walk with me?”
“Fuck I look like walking? Take the car.”
“Car’s in the shop, remember? Or have you just forgotten that we’ve been taking Ubers to and from work all week?” Luckily they weren’t paying for it. “C’mon,” Kirishima tries again, “I don’t like to be left alone with my thoughts. Please, babe?” If there was one thing Kirishima did that he knew Bakugou hated—or couldn’t resist—it was his pouty face. He didn’t often do it, because he knew it would lose effect if he did it all the time. It was only saved for the rarest of occasions: like right now. “C’mon, please? Please? Please!”
And it seemed to have the intended effect, as before Kirishima even had the chance to whine again, Bakugou had shut off the TV and brushed past him harshly, mumbling about how Kirishima lucky was Bakugou felt like taking a walk and how he was even luckier Katsuki had DVR’d the show. Kirishima fist-pumped, following behind Katsuki as the man put on his sneakers. “I miss my crocs.” Kirishima whined as he sat down on the small step, reaching for the pair of Jay’s he had instead.
“That’s the second fucking thing that will never be seen in my damn house again. You buy another pair, you’re out.” Bakugou strapped his sneakers, patting down his shorts to make sure he had everything when he looked back at Kirishima. “Hurry the hell on. You wanted to go, fuck-munch.”
“They were official, Katsuki! Official!” He stood up, waving his arms around, “They had the crocodile symbol! That’s how you know!
“They were a hideous disease-ridden motherfuckin’ menace to society, that’s what I fuckin’ know!” Bakugou pointed accusatorily at Kirishima, “You’re fuckin’ lucky I didn’t make you burn them.” Kirishima wouldn’t mention the fact that he just left the shoes at his mom’s house in his old bedroom.
“Yeah,” He fake-sniffled, “I… I guess.” Brightening his mood, Kirishima reached for Bakugou hand, grabbing the doorknob with the other as he headed outside. “Time to get some pizza!”
“Your hand is sweaty, you ass eater!”
“Only if it’s your ass.” Kirishima answered rather plainly, “And your hand is sweaty. You know you have over-active sweat glands in the summer.”
Red-faced and seemingly embarrassed, Bakugou ripped his hand away from Kirishima’s and walked ahead, subtly wiping it onto his shorts, “Shut your fucking stupid fuck mouth, you fuck trumpet!”
“Sure, babe.” Kirishima snickered at his expense, closing and locking the door behind them. Time to get that damn pizza.
The walk to the pizza parlor was relatively short. The Mighty Pizza Shack—which had tons of posters and new articles of All Might littering the walls—was only a few blocks away from their shared apartment. “Wow, I’m glad they all still hang out.” Kirishima pushed open the door, which sounded off with All Might’s signature laugh. “I mean, you’d think since Iida and Uraraka started dating they wouldn’t have time for Midoriya, but they’re just as close as ever.”
“I don’t fucking care.” Bakugou growls, though it’s softer as he takes in the strong smells of the pizza. Ah yes, pizza. One of the only things that could potentially calm Bakugou Katsuki down.
Nearly empty, as the sun had been close to setting on that Sunday night, Kirishima and Bakugou seem to be two of the only four patrons in the parlor. Two girls sit over in the corner, pouring over what looks to be large files Kirishima has nothing to want to do with. Instead, he gestures towards the counter, where a young boy stands, looking bored as he taps his fingers against the old counter. He’s dressed in a crude replica of All Might’s Silver Age costume, with a weird hat that reminds him of that hoodie Midoriya owned when they were in high school—with All Might’s hair… things… sticking up out of it.
Approaching the counter, Katsuki hangs back, leaning on against the wall on the other side of the ropes while Kirishima stares up at the menu board above the boy. “Welcome to Mighty Pizza Shack where everything is Plus Ultra.” His ‘enthusiasm’ is contagious, though Kirishima smiles at the boy with pity. He’s had to work shitty jobs—at least this boy didn’t work at Hero Land. Now that place could drain away enthusiasm quicker than Bakugou could get an attitude.
“Yeah, what’s up, uh,” Kirishima leans forward, reading the name tag, “Jaaaa… Marcus? Ja’Marcus?” The boy sighs, nodding even though this isn’t his name tag. “Yeah, what’s up. Lemme get like, a large pizza—no, a Mighty Size—no, a large… no… A Super Mighty… no!”
“Just get a fuckin’ pizza and stop wasting time, you shit-head.”
“Katsuki! Language!” Kirishima reaches over and covers “Ja’Marcus’” ears. Bakugou only glares, flipping him off and Kirishima huffs, uncovering the boy’s ears, “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. Some people just don’t know how to control themselves.” Kirishima leans forward, whispering loudly as he shakes his head, reminding Bakugou of his mom slightly and that just gets him angrier.
“Hurry the hell up!” Bakugou gripes once more, “I hate when my time is wasted!”
“Then help me decide!” Kirishima turns back to him, “I don’t know what to get! This is why we should’ve gotten Papa John’s!”
“You mention Papa John’s one more time, I’m gonna kick your ass!”
“You’d do that anyway.” Kirishima responds as Bakugou walks around the outside of the rope maze to stand next to him.
“We’re getting a three cheese Mighty pie. Half with beef and pepperoni and half plain.” Bakugou demands, slapping down a few bills.
“And a two-liter coke!” The boy, seemingly scared of Bakugou due to past experiences, only nods numbly, taking the money and putting it into the drawer. He hands Kirishima the receipt and disappears into the kitchen.
It took about twenty bad jokes on Kirishima’s part and about thirty countdowns from ten like his anger management group leader told him for their pizza to be ready. Kirishima hopped up in the middle of a particularly terrible one to head to the pickup counter while Bakugou silently thanked someone up in the heavens that his torture was over… for now at least. Bakugou knew that Kirishima wouldn’t forget to continue the joke. Either he’d do it on their way back or he’d finish it while they were getting ready for bed and Bakugou would have to resist the urge to punch something because some of them were actually funny. And he shouldn’t be laughing at them because he was Bakugou Katsuki and he didn’t laugh at bad jokes and stupid shit.
“Okay, ready to go!” Kirishima twirls the pizza box on his index finger, smiling widely at Bakugou. “This smells great! Let’s hurry!”
“Don’t fuckin’ spin the fuckin’ pizza, you hair-for-brains fuck trumpet. You might drop it!” Bakugou yelled at him, holding the door open for his boyfriend.
“Okay, okay. No need to be so saucy!” Kirishima laughed at his own joke, “Ha! Wasn’t that funny? Right?”
“No!”
“Aw c’mon, I know some of them can be a little… cheesy, but you don’t have to get so mad!”
“I’m going to shove that box up your ass!” Bakugou seethed, clenching and unclenching his hands. Kirishima was about to get punched in the face.
“Wouldn’t be the first thing going up there and probably won’t be the last.” He answered flatly. “At least do the meat lover’s side. You know how into meat I am.”
A silent moment passed between the two before Kirishima ran ahead of Bakugou, laughing as the embarrassed boy chased after him.
“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry, stop! I don’t wanna hurt the pizza.” Kirishima skids to a halt, with Bakugou stopping right beside him. The box is still warm in Kirishima’s hands as he slightly opens it, peering in at the pie. “Mmh…”
Bakugou flips open the box top, reaching in for a slice only to have the pizza taken out of his grasp. “Fuck-munch?!” It’s an insult and a question, and usually, Kirishima wouldn’t be adamant, but he is right now.
“I just remembered!” Kirishima closes the box. “We’ve gotta watch that Red Box movie we got Thursday! You know, when you got shit-faced because you bought into Tetsu’s challenge.”
“I’m not watching a fucking movie about trolls.” Bakugou could remember the movie, which had been sitting on the TV mantle for about three days. It didn’t look like anything he’d fucking pick, so it had to be Kirishima.
“Yes you are!” Kirishima responded, “I charged it to your card.”
“You douche nozzle!”
“You said I could! Well, I mean, you were pretty out of it, so maybe I shouldn’t have listened to you. But you were so cute that I just—I couldn’t just not get it for you, y’know? And I mean... You wanted to watch it. You said “Let’s get The Boxtrolls, fuck-hole.” And I said “Are you sure? I can watch whatever? We don’t have to get that.” And you were like “I live for fucking heartfelt children’s movies, don’t you fucking know that? Lilo and Stitch is my shit. Fuckin’ get it.” And I got it. But then you fell asleep and we didn’t watch it.” Kirishima explained, huffing as he began walking. “I should’ve recorded you.”
“I’m watching “Dias de la Policia de Nuestros Corazones” tonight. It’s the God-Damn season finale and like fuck I’m gonna miss Carmen finally finding out who killed her father. Some gets their heart ripped out and I need to know fucking who. Fuck The Boxtrolls. Watch it yourself.”
“Katsuuuukiiiii!” Kirishima whined, “C’mon, please!”
“No!” Bakugou shoves his hands into his pockets. “Just take it back or watch it by yourself!”
“Can we watch it after dias de la all those other words?” Kirishima suggests, “Like you don’t even gotta watch. Just like, sit there and be with me, lover.” Kirishima bats his eyelashes at Bakugou.
“Whatever.” Bakugou looks away from Kirishima to stare out over the beach as the boy sends him a dazzling grin.
“It’s gonna be a great movie, I know it.” Kirishima hums happily. They’re quiet for another moment, only Kirishima’s insistent humming filling the space where words or silence could be. After a particularly long humming sequence, Bakugou snaps.
“What the fuck are you humming? Stop!” Bakugou whips his head in his boyfriend’s direction.
“I had a realization when I first started humming.” He begins, “We’re like SpongeBob.”
“What?”
“Yeah, the episode where Mr. Krabs sends SpongeBob and Squidward to deliver the pizza. Here’s the pizza.” He gestures to the box. “You already tried to eat it before we gave it to the customer—well, in our case, brought it home—and you told me to stop humming! Now all we need is--!”
“No.” Bakugou holds up a hand, “Don’t you fuckin--!”
“The Krusty Krab pizza! Is the pizza absluivaley!” Kirishima sways side to side as he sings. Bakugou face-palms, wanting so badly to throttle his boyfriend, but he’s to one holding the pizza and if Bakugou tried, he would probably end up dropping it, since Kirishima was so bad at holding onto things. For now, he had to grin and bear it. “Sing, Squidward!”
“I’m not fucking Squidward, you ass-hat!” Why was this walk taking so long? It took them under ten minutes to walk there why does it feel like they’d been walking for twenty minutes now.
It doesn’t take long for Kirishima to start beat-boxing, using the box to help out. At this point, Bakugou is so upset he’s already tired himself out—a shocker, really—and he just walks alongside Kirishima as he continues his SpongeBob routine. Next comes the ass shaking and Bakugou hates that he finds himself watching Kirishima practically twerk down the sidewalk. It’s fine, he even smiles a little until somebody has the audacity to honk.
“How about I shove that horn up your pasty, hairy disease-ridden ass, you limp-dicked fuck trumpet son of a dying donkey whore!” Bakugou yells, kicking at their car as they pass by, whooping and hollering.
“Damnit, Katsuki!” Kirishima yelps as the car skids to a halt and about five guys pile out of the car. Kirishima isn’t afraid of them, he’s more afraid for them as Bakugou cracks his knuckles. He’d been looking to let off steam since Kirishima started singing—and he wasn’t about to hit his boyfriend. Kirishima was too damn cute and if they hadn’t of honked, Bakugou would’ve smiled.
But now he had an attitude and someone’s “honor” to defend. And by honor, his ass. Because nobody should be looking at Kirishima’s ass being thrown in a circle but him.
“Katsuki, you didn’t have to beat those guys up like that.” Kirishima says after they’ve left the ‘crime scene’. Another check on the pizza says that it’s still slightly hot. Kirishima vaguely wonders how it stays hot for so long when he turns to his boyfriend who only looks ruffled, not like the guys he beat up.
“Nobody’s catcalling my fucking boyfriend.” Bakugou mumbles, “Gimme a slice!”
“We’re almost there!” Kirishima whines, “Can’t you wait?!”
“No, fuck-munch! Why do I hate to wait! This pizza isn’t even that good!”
Kirishima throws a hand against his chest, taken aback by Bakugou’s words. He gasps, “Squidward!”
“Call me Squidward again and you’ll be lookin’ like those fuckers back there.”
“Katsuki, can’t you just wait, like three more minutes?”
“No! I just beat up five guys! I’m fucking hungry, and I paid for this damn pizza, I—!” His rant is half cutoff by Kirishima pressing his lips to Bakugou’s. The blonde simmers quietly as Kirishima thanks him in a whisper, effectively making the blonde forget about the pizza. “What the fuck ever…”
“Ah, I didn’t even get to finish the song. This is the best part; you know? Kruh-huh-sty Kr-aaaaa-aaaaa-aaaaab pizza! Is the pizza, yeah! For you and—are you ready, Katsu?” Bakugou covers his ear as Kirishima presses his face against the pizza box, “Meee-eeeehheheh eheheeheeee!”
“Kirishima!” Bakugou snaps once more. “I did not beat up five guys for you to keep singing the damn song that made me beat them up in the first place! Shut the fu--!”
“Look, there’s the complex!”
“Oh thank fuck.” Bakugou all but sprints towards the complex.
“C’mon, Squidward! Don’t act like you didn’t like my singing!”
When the two enter the house, Bakugou wastes no time in taking off his shoes to run towards the TV and check for his show. He turns on the TV, flipping the channels, and catching the end of his show. “Dammit!”
“Maybe if you hadn’t’ve beaten up those guys, we could’ve shaved, like, ten minutes off our time.”
“Why did that walk take so fucking long?!”
“We went the long way because you were chasing me.” Kirishima drops the pizza on the table. “Lucky we have a DVR, though.” Kirishima picks up the remote, moving through a few menus and pressing the record button. “Now you have time to watch The Boxtrolls with me!” Kirishima beams.
Bakugou sits down on the couch, huffing angrily as he moves a hand. “Fine. Now hurry up and bring the plates before I change my mind!”
“Yes, Squidward!”
“I will end you, fuck-munch!”
BONUS:
As they settle down to watch The Boxtrolls—excitedly on Kirishima’s part and a little more than begrudgingly on Bakugou’s, Kirishima looks around the table before he nudges Bakugou. “Hey, uh, babe?”
“What the fuck is it now? I got the damn cups and the damn plates.”
“Yeah… um… we ordered a soda right?”
“You got a damn coke, you shit. Or did you forget?” Bakugou insults him meaninglessly.
“Yeah, but I don’t see it.” Kirishima looks around the table, then stands, heading into the kitchen. There’s some shuffling before Kirishima returns. “Shit, I don’t think we grabbed it out of the fridge.”
“FUCK.”